


Sacrifice And Duty

by Saoirse_Laochra



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7404688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saoirse_Laochra/pseuds/Saoirse_Laochra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And now, you ask of me to give you my sons as well. To sacrifice them for your 'cause'. Well to that I say, to the Pits of Doom with Erebor! To the cold and barren wastelands with your 'duty! I shall not let you take my sons from me, brother! Over my dead, cold, and lifeless body shall you take from me the only thing I have left!" </p><p>Dis' thoughts on her sons following their uncle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Duty

**Author's Note:**

> So this will be a two-shot, following Dis' thoughts on her sons and brother, and their deaths. Brought over from FF.net.

"You'll be careful now, laddies, won't you?"

Dis didn't miss Kili's eye roll, or Fili's responding glare, as she she fussed a bit more with their packs.

"Of course we will, mum. I'll look after him, you know that," Fili said gently, kneeling by her side.

"What?! You'll look out for me?! I'm not the one who –"

The gentle look Dis sent her youngest made him hush, thankfully. She didn't want her last hour spent with her sons with them bickering.

Damn her brother to the pits of Moria, she thought bitterly, fighting to keep the tears from her eyes as she latched up the second pack. The selfish dwarf thought nothing of her pain.

* * *

_"They must go, Dis. They're old enough now that they can start doing their duty as heirs of –"_

_"If you finish that sentence, Thorin, I swear to Mahal that I shall cleave your skull in two," Dis cut her older brother off, ignoring the startled look in his eye. "I weary of giving my kin for 'duty'. 'Duty' does nothing to ease the breaking heart of losing my father. It doesn't comfort me to hear of my brother's death as his 'duty'. And 'duty' does not make my grief any less at the loss of my husband. When will the Maker be satisfied with the House of Durin's 'duty'?" She asked bitterly, hanging her head. "Is it not enough that I have sacrificed my home, my parents, my brother, and my husband? Why must I sacrifice my sons as well for this accursed 'duty'? What will it take to satisfy Mahal's blood lust?"_

_"Dis," Thorin said softly, laying his large, calloused hand on her own. "I will keep them safe."_

_She pulled her hand back sharply, pushing herself to her feet. "Our father told mother the same thing about Frenrir. You both swore to me that my husband would return to me. Safe. Bagh. What knows a mother's heart of 'safe'?"_

_"Sister, I love those boys as they were mine own. You know this. I would not let any harm befall them."_

_"You're not their mother!" Dis snapped, flinging her cast iron skillet to the floor in frustration. "Fili is barely old enough to be braiding his hair! And Kili does not even have his beard yet, Thorin! They're too young! They've never known the heart-ache of battle! Of the blood, and pain, and agony that must accompany it! They still believe your exaggerated tales of the 'greatness' of war! Of heroes of old being infallible, coming home after every battle to the safety of their hearth! They don't understand that the only thing sadder than a battle won, is a battle lost! You've filled their heads with such nonsense that they don't see the dangers. They don't understand that every time our kind goes to battle, at least half never return home again! They think of only the 'glory'; not of those who are left strewn across the dying fields when all is said and done!_

_"You forget to whom you speak, Thorin Oakenshield! I'm not a simple hearth-wife; I fought by your side many a time before my sons were born. Before I was Dis, mother of your heirs, I was Dis, Bowmistress of the Mountain, and I have seen the horror that your cursed 'duty' brings. I've seen the dead littered across the fields, outnumbering the living. The moans of the dying, and the curses of the living. I held Frenrir's hand as he slipped from this world into the Halls of Our Fathers. I heard his cries for our mother, his body riddled with arrows and cuts. I sat by Rilin's side, and watched him fade from this world, delusional, and in agonizing pain, until Mahal finally had mercy on him, and freed him from his earthly form._

_"And now, you ask of me to give you my sons as well. To sacrifice them for your 'cause'. Well to that I say, to the Pits of Doom with Erebor! To the cold and barren wastelands with you and your 'duty'! I shall not let you take my sons from me, brother! Over my dead, cold, and lifeless body shall you take from me the only thing I have left!"_

_Thorin sighed as he stood, walking over to her, and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder._

_"Dis... I've already told them. Whether or not you wish it, Fili and Kili will not be left behind. Nor would I force them to stay, even if it were within my power to do so. I understand your pain, dear sister. But they are not dwarflings any longer. The time has come for them to grow into their own; to become the great Dwarven warriors they are meant to be. My heart aches with your pain, little sister, but I would not so shame them by forcing them to remain behind."_

_Dis pulled away again, her anger giving way to the cold, numbing acceptance of fate as she watched her brother retreat from her, moving towards the door. Walking away as if he hadn't just shattered her world._

_"You understand nothing, brother," She said quietly. "You know nothing of my pain."_

_He paused, only for a moment, but the coward would not look at her, as he silently left._

* * *

"Mum?"

Dis pulled herself from her thoughts, forcing herself to smile at her youngest, as she pushed herself to her feet, her bones aching from weariness.

"I'm sorry, Kili. I was just trying to think if I'd forgotten anything," She said, waving her hand absently around the sitting room of their small home.

"You've packed half the house, mother," Fili said with a smile, as he shouldered his pack, Kili following his brother's lead. "I'm sure we have enough for ten adventures stowed away."

She felt her heart breaking anew, as she stared at them. _Her boys_.

Fair-haired Fili, who looked so much like his late father that it nearly made her weep at times. Fili, her first-born, who had stepped in to help raise his brother after Rilin had died. Fili, who was her solid rock in any storm. Fili, whose hair she'd started braiding only five short years ago.

And Kili. Sweet, good-natured Kili. Kili who was the mirror image of Thorin at that age. Kili, who had always been able to make her laugh, no matter what hardship time had wrought upon her. Kili, who had given her nearly a full head of gray hair with his antics. Kili, who would rather climb trees, and chase pretty girls than do his lessons.

She tried to fight back her tears. It wouldn't do, to sadden her sons on that day. But she couldn't resist reaching up, and straightening Fili's cloak. Couldn't resist tucking Kili's ever unruly hair behind his ears.

"We'll be fine, mother," Fili said softly, seeming to sense her anxiety. "We'll look out for each other."

"Of course we will!" Kili added with a grin. "And soon, we'll send word for you to come join us in our new home."

"Aye, I know you will, laddies," She said softly, forcing a small smile to her face. "You just... You just listen to your uncle, and you'll be fine."

She pulled them both to her, and wrapped her arms around them as best she could. She remembered when she'd still been able to pick them up, and put one on each of her shoulders, and now she barely came to their chests, she thought sadly.

A knock on the door finally made her release her grip.

"That will be Dwalin," Kili said, his dark eyes nearly dancing in his excitement, racing over and throwing the door open.

"Ready ta go, lads?"

"Of course we are!" Kili said with a laugh. "Just saying good-bye to Mum."

With that, her youngest was out the door, Fili barely taking the time to give her a kiss on the top of her head, before he chased after his little brother.

Now that they were gone, Dis let the tears flow freely, one hand over her mouth to keep from calling them back to her.

"They'll be fine, lassie," Dwalin said gently, laying a hand on her shoulder, and giving her a smile. "I'll look out for them."

Dis could only nod, unable to speak as she looked up at her childhood lover, and long-time confident. He seemed to understand, giving her shoulder a light squeeze, before trailing out the door after her sons.

_Mahal, hear my prayers. I've given you so much already, and asked you for so little. Please... Please, return my sons safely home to me._


	2. Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 is not a happy chapter, although after the depression that was this story, I had to give it a quasi-happy ending.

It was a bright, sunny day, the day that Dis' world ended. She'd been busying herself around the kitchen – _anything to keep herself busy, to keep from wondering about the fate of her sons after almost a yea_ r – when she heard the knock on the door.

She sighed as she wiped her hands on her apron. Gimli was early, she thought with a rueful smile. The young lad probably wanted some of her pastries before he got to work. Ever since Fili and Kili had left, the dwarfling had checked in with her every morning, getting her hearth going, bringing in her wood, and making sure her pantry was well-stocked with fresh meat, and doing whatever other odd, heavy-lifting jobs she might require.

Another knock had her grunting. "Just a minute, lad, these old bones don't move as..." She stopped, all the air rushing out of her lungs as she swung open the door, and seen a familiar, bald, tattooed head.

_No._

She slammed the door shut, retreating back towards the kitchen, heart pounding as all the air rushed from her lungs, leaving her gasping for breathe.

_No._

_Nothing had happened_. She'd go back to her baking, and when she heard the knock, it would be the red-haired Gimli standing there, with that lopsided, shy smile of his – _nothing like her two boys, who always made themselves right at home wherever they went_ – and her day would continue as usual, fretting and worrying for news from Erebor. Like every other day since her boys had left, and...

"Dis."

_No, no, no, no, no._

"I'm so sorry, lassie."

"No!" She screamed, flinging her rolling pin at his head, followed by her pans, and then the silverware drawer. But Dwalin only stood there, not even moving out of the way of her projectiles, his own dark eyes filled with tears. Finally, when she reached and found nothing left for her to throw, she threw herself on the old dwarf warrior, pounding at his chest with her fists.

"You promised me, Dwalin! _You promised me_!"

As quickly as her anger had come, it vanished, leaving an empty, bottomless hole of despair, deep within her chest. She could no longer feel her legs, as she slid to the floor, Dwalin's thick arms wrapping around her, and following her down.

"Fili... Kili..." She crooned softly, digging her fingers into the rough leather of Dwalin's jerkin. "My sons. _My sons_."

Finally, after an Age – or was it only seconds? – she looked up, eyes darting wildly around the room.

"Where is he?! Where is my coward of a brother?!" She demanded. "It was he who took them from me, it should be he here to tell me!"

"Dis... Dis, I'm..." Dwalin swallowed, and idly, Dis realized it was the first time she'd ever seen the warrior at a loss for words. But he took a deep breath, and finally said, "Thorin Oakenshield was gravely wounded in the Battle of the Five Armies. Both Fili and Kili fought their way to his side, and died bravely trying to protect their uncle. But... It was too late."

_Mahal, no._

" _Everyone_. The Gods have taken _everyone_ from me," She said numbly. "I have no one left."

"I... I've arranged for the fastest ponies to be made ready," Dwalin said thickly. "As soon as you're ready, I'll take you to Erebor."

"Why?" At the clear confusion on Dwalin's face, Dis felt the rage returning, pounding her small fists against the stone floor. "Why?! So I can go and see the _mountain_ that has taken my whole family from me?! So I can see some pretty stone bearing the names of my sons and my brother?! So I can see the place where my sons' lives were cut short?!"

"So you can say good-bye."

 _Good-bye._ The word hit Dis like slab of rock. _Good-bye._

_She'd never again sit by the hearth late into the night, braiding Fili's hair as they talked. She'd never get the chance to braid Kili's curly, unruly dark hair, or present him with the familial clasps for his beard. She'd never again see those dancing eyes, so full of merriment, twinkling at her like stars in the night sky as she scolded them. She'd never again soothe her sons' tired brows after a late night at the forge. Never again open the door to see the laughing, smiling boys who'd been her world._

_She'd never pick out the_ mundr _– the wedding present – to give to some young dwarven female. She'd never stand with another mother, and tie the Wedding Knot around her sons' hands, binding them to their wives. She'd never see the worried faces of her sons, as their wives gave birth to their first-borns. Never watch with pride as her sons would sit on the High Seat, and sprinkle water on her grandchildren's head, bestowing upon them their name._

_She'd never get to bounce her grandchildren on her knee, telling them stories of their fathers' mischief, and pranks. Never watch her sons raise her grandchildren to be fine young dwarven warriors._

"Dis?"

"Leave me," She said quietly, pushing away from Dwalin, and forcing herself to her feet.

"Dis, I –"

"Leave! Get out!" She roared, grabbing a chair, and hurtling it across the room. "Get out of my home! _Get out_!"

* * *

"It's been seven days now, brother," Balin said grimly, staring at the wooden door.

Dwalin grunted, his eyes only half-open.

"Should we call the healers?"

"Why? There's nothing any healer on Middle Earth could do for her now," The elderly warrior said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "If this is how she wishes to end her days, who are we to stop her?"

"Her friends. Her cousins. That is who _we_ are, Dwalin. And I won't let her sit inside her home, and starve herself to death in her grief."

"And what reason would you give her to live, brother?" Dwalin asked quietly.

To that, Balin had no answer.

* * *

Nine days after news of her sons' deaths, Dwalin and Balin finally entered the small home. They found Dis, daughter of Thrain, Bow-mistress Of The Mountains, laying dead on her kitchen floor. Her body was carefully preserved, and carried to Erebor, where she was laid to rest next to her brother and her sons.

* * *

Dis opened her eyes slowly, feeling the gentle breeze on her face.

"Come on, mum. We haven't got all day."

_Kili._

"We've been waiting for you."

_Fili._

She felt firm hands helping her to her feet, and a smile broke over her face, as she seen both her boys standing in the green field, eyes practically singing with joy.

"You certainly took your time, sister. Late as usual."

She turned her head to the side, and seen Thorin standing there, next to Frenrir, the weariness of battle, and a hard life gone from their faces.

"I've missed you, my heart."

_Rilin._

"Come on, mum! Grandfather and grandmother are waiting inside," Kili said impatiently, grabbing her hand, and tugging her along towards the Golden Halls.

"Welcome home, mother," Fili said softly, smiling as he grasped her free hand.

_Welcome home._


End file.
